with strings attached

dear you,

i am here in the confines of my apartment, staring blankly at the walls that bear witness to the lull this night brings. i am here because i am waiting for you. in the background, the news of someone passing is murmuring on the television. hopefully, this is not a foreboding of what will come of you. i know we shall all be there at one point or another. but i am selfish. i want to be there first.
i wait until i feel the fear of losing you creeps through my back. i wait until i argue with myself to believe what you said: that the present is a gift.
but i smell fear. i taste fear. i feel fear. and it derails my focus. not having you for the longest is what bothers me so much.

this time i am praying that what you said were just lies.
lies to make me believe myself enough to jump from the precipice.
lies to make me believe myself enough to slip a little bit and enjoy the fall.

yes, dear, those are just lies. and i believe.

i need a drink.

are you there, yet?